In The Balusters, the Trash Cans Are All Neatly Lined Up

It’s cleverly devised, although for a play about the corrupting influence of obsessing over peace and quiet it’s more than a tad pat. Though Lindsay-Abaire lingers on the idea that everyone has their own blind spots, he allows one character to become more villainous than most and another to emerge as near saintly. It’s a tidy conclusion, complete with a sturdy button of a kiss-off line. The play’s clean lines weaken it, letting it speed uninterrupted, like a car along that esplanade, toward judgment and satisfaction. There’s something to be said for disrupting the picturesque, and stopping traffic.